


Just One Day

by Funkspiel



Series: Kinktober 2017 [7]
Category: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Bottom Original Percival Graves, Dubious Consent, M/M, Somnophilia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-08
Updated: 2017-10-08
Packaged: 2019-01-10 12:32:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 886
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12299316
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Funkspiel/pseuds/Funkspiel
Summary: Theseus is worried about his workaholic lover, so he gives him a reason to stay in bed.Day 7: Somnophilia





	Just One Day

It was rare to see him like this, belly down, soft and on the tail end of a full night of rest. The dark circles beneath his eyes softer, less swollen. Theseus hummed softly, happily, as he brushed by the hair in Graves’ eyes – soft and silky without the product that usually bound it. 

He’d wake soon. He’d wake, and he’d rush straight into a new day and he’d undo all of Theseus’ work from the night before to get him to actually rest. He’d mistake his sudden vigor for a full recovery.

And Theseus just couldn’t have that.

Gently, he leaned forward until he properly loomed over his bed mate. Lips soft where they pressed against Graves’ exposed back. One hand sweeping low and slow and an inch from the skin as it snuck beneath the pale white of their bedsheets. Innocent as it ghosted over the curve of his lover’s ass before finally touching, parting those pert cheeks, and finding the soft and swollen furl of muscle between them. Hot and pink and still attempting to tighten after the romp of sex that had put Percival to bed in the first place. 

He peeked a thumbnail inside, testing the elasticity of the muscle, curious how much the stretch of his cock had lingered. It gave somewhat easily, peeling open and winking weakly around his finger. With a whispered, fond word, he filled that tract with lube by magic, eyes on Graves’ face all the while.

Beneath the curve of his elbow, nose tucked, Graves’ brows furrowed. Confused. Theseus slid a finger in, and those brows went slack. Hips slowly began to roll into the mattress, and the oldest Scamander brother was suddenly quite sure that between his belly and the bedsheets, Graves was getting hard.

A soft and sleepy keen slipped into the air, hoarse and dry and soft. Confused and needy. Theseus felt heat bloom in his gut at the sound. So delicate and gentle. So very un-Graves-like. Mellow and unabashed and wanting. 

Sleep limb bones melted further into the mattress until the moment Theseus found that little bundle of nerves within his partner. A quick crook and a tap, and all those muscles tightened like a live wire, arching his back, forcing his belly into the bed. Neck up, mouth open on a soft and breathless noise. Lashes fluttering against creamy cheeks, pale from too many days and nights in his office.

Theseus smiled and slipped another finger inside just as those eyes began to open, sleepy browns melting to aroused darkness. Mouth parted on a soft and silent ‘oh’. Graves’ gaze flicked around, confused and hot, before finally falling on Theseus.

“You  _cheater_ ,” he gasped, and Theseus grinned. “You know I have a meeting.”

He didn’t even need to look at a clock, his clever little director. He knew Theseus’ game. He knew and likely had expected to wake to Theseus trying to keep him in bed. But it was obvious he hadn’t been expecting this.

Inside Graves, Theseus stilled his fingers.

“Do you want me to stop?” He asked, quite serious, because he wouldn’t push. Not if it gave Graves more stress than less.

Graves glared him before finally, after a heavy pause, thrusting his hips down onto that finger and growling, “You better make me having to explain my tardiness worth it, Scamander.”

And Theseus knew that would be the closest to a  _please_ as he would get.

Graves let his eyes fall heavy and half-lidded as Theseus added a third finger with a pleased grin. Callouses perfect against the hot and tender walls of Graves’ body. Lips tender as he kissed him. Milking that prostate with firm, heavy, lingering strokes that had Graves gyrating mindlessly against the sheets. 

Theseus built him up. Up and up and up until he saw the telltale curl of toes before he still his fingers, letting Percival wind down before he could come. With a betrayed little growl, Graves opened his eyes to glare at him, only for his dick to lurch excitedly at Theseus’ sharkish grin.

“If I can only make you rest for as long as it takes for you to come,” he said, bowing down to kiss the words into Graves’ shocked lips, “I’ll just have to make it last then, won’t I?”

“Theseu– _ah!”_ Graves gasped, all heat lost on a soft moan as Theseus crooked his fingers admonishingly and slowly began to build him up again.

“I’ve got all day, baby,” Theseus promised kindly, fondly, as Graves writhed desperately beneath him, “So you better start thinking up some excuses. Because ‘tardiness’ is not quite gonna cover what you’re gonna be today.”

“Theseus,” Graves sucks in a breath, “You have to,  _ah fuck_ , you can’t,  _nnngh,_ you can’t leave me hanging all day. T-Theseus.” And then, when he didn’t answer, a gasped, “ _Theseus!”_

“Promise me you’ll take a day off,” Theseus whispers. “A  _real_  day off. And I’ll bring you off here and now, and worship you all day. However you want. Whatever you want.”

Lips red from biting, Graves worried them again. Hazy eyed and pending. 

“Please,” Theseus finally asked, and something like understanding flickered in Graves’ eyes. Fond, touched, if just the littlest bit annoyed.

“One day,” Graves said. 

Theseus grinned, fingers already crooking as he agreed.


End file.
